For You
by NexusTehULF0o
Summary: Writing music always seemed to ease her pain, but…when it came to… Luke/Tear. Oneshot.


**TITLE: For You**

**AUTHOR: NexustehULF0o**

**DESCRIPTION: Writing music always seemed to ease her pain, but…when it came to…**

**RATING: K**

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><p><strong>DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN LUKE, TEAR, TALES OF THE ABYSS, OR ANY OF THAT.<strong>

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><p><strong>Nexus: So my recent purchase of a 3DS has spurred me into obsessing a bit over Tales of the Abyss. TEAR AND LUKE ARE STILL SO CUTE AND I CAN'T WAIT FOR THE GAME TO COME OUT ON THE 3DS. XDDDDD Anyway, enjoy this!<strong>

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><p>The sounds of a pen scratching across paper echoed in the dimly lit room, reverberating off the open walls of the small hotel lobby. The only light in the room was an oil lamp that rested on a small end table next to a comfortable-looking chair, where a lithe brunette sat hunched over a stack of parchment.<p>

Her eyebrows furrowed as she pushed a stray lock of thin hair behind her ear, tapping the capped end of the fountain pen against her bottom lip.

On the paper were lines, scribbled music notes darted across them in irregular patterns and shapes. The Seventh Fonist, frustrated from lack of sleep and general anxiety, jotted rhythms and syncopations hurriedly onto the paper, wondering if it would ebb any of the waves tumbling back and forth inside her.

With a couple quick hums, she scratched over a couple notes to replace them with others, only to replace them again after a moment or two. Heaving a sigh, Tear Grants slouched in the chair – writing music always seemed to ease her pain, but…when it came to…

When it came to…

Her eyes stung as she shut them tightly, the paper slightly crinkling as her fist tightened around it.

_I…I can't do anything to save him…_she thought, placing a hand to her head. _I'm too powerless…_

Mieu's words came to mind as she remembered the conversation she'd had with the Cheagle in her hotel room earlier that night.

_I love Master. _He said, moving close to her with a worried look shining brightly in those massive eyes.

Difficult as it was for her to admit, Mieu was probably no longer the only one.

She felt the heat rise to her cheeks at that thought and rested her papers on the nearby ottoman.

Luke had changed.

And she…she liked it. A lot.

She admired his fortitude. His determination to make up for his faults, his failures. He wanted to live – to _be _Luke fon Fabre – but not a shabby impersonation of his original. He yearned to be a human being, and although Tear would have given anything to help him achieve those goals, she had no say in the matter. She never did.

A tapping of boots down the stairs caused Tear to rummage herself out of the mess of her thoughts. She panicked – was it Jade, Anise? Would she have to explain herself to them? Or worse –

"Hey, who turned out the lights?" came a distinct voice from up the staircase, stopping on the stairs and grumbling to himself for a moment.

Maybe he would go back up, she thought as she pulled her hand quickly away from the lamp and hid her face. She just needed to keep herself from making any sudden movements…

But he kept coming down the stairs, which made her want to leave before he realized she was here.

But moving meant he would know anyway – she kept still.

A fumbling began as Luke fon Fabre reached the bottom of the stairs, feeling around for chairs or tables. He carefully maneuvered about the room, searching for some kind of light while mumbling that they should leave the lights on longer so that people who couldn't sleep could come downstairs and read or something.

Tear smiled faintly underneath the hand cupped over her mouth. So he couldn't sleep either, huh?

Moments passed and the smile faded – Luke was getting closer and closer to her and her lamp. A few steps over and he'd reach and grab it, revealing her in the dark without an excuse.

She felt one of Luke's hands touch the arm of her chair, then positioning himself so he was square in front of her. He felt the table next to her – his fingers grasping the oil lamp and feeling the rusted metal against his calloused fingertips, he smiled.

"Ah, there we are. Still warm, too…" he muttered to himself, leaning over to grasp the handle.

She could feel his breath hot on her face, leaning back so he wouldn't hear her own soft breathing. Panicked though she was, she mentally stirred the thought of being this close to the redhead, breathing in his dark, heady aroma, and feeling strangely flighty and daring, like she could do something extremely emotional and reckless, and still not regret a moment.

That feeling was quickly replaced with embarrassment, however, when the lamp was turned up and there she sat, face inches away from one Luke fon Fabre, who looked at her curiously. She pulled her head back quickly, leaning back in the chair and breaking eye contact.

"Luke…I didn't think you were awake." She mumbled.

He looked surprised that she spoke first, then leaning away to move her papers into his lap while he took a seat on the ottoman they had been placed on.

He smirked at her. "What are you doing down here in the dark?" he asked, attempting to read her face.

She brushed her bangs out of her face, momentarily revealing her other eye while still avoiding eye contact with the replica.

"Just…thinking, I guess." She heaved a sigh, causing Luke's smile to fade a little. He rested his arms on the tops of his legs.

"About Master Van." He muttered, and she looked over at him sadly. He wouldn't think for a moment that she would be upset that his Seventh Fonons were separating, and that he was slowly but surely dying before her very eyes.

But then she remembered that he didn't know she knew – that until he revealed it to her, it would be her and Mieu's well-kept secret.

How long she could deal with that was another story entirely, however.

"…In part," she nodded slightly, scrunching her mouth to the side of her face.

"Yeah, well…" he gave the back of his head a light scratch. "You know…you don't have to if you don't want to. You don't have to face your brother."

She smiled faintly at that.

"You keep saying that," she said, placing a hand over the hand that rested on his knee, "But it doesn't change anything. Van needs to be stopped. I know that – you know that. And I'm his sister, Luke. I can't stand by and do nothing. In fact, it makes me feel more obligated to do something."

Luke hung his head a little. "Right," he mumbled apologetically before looking up at her again. "But I worry about you sometimes. You don't have to go it alone, you know."

Tear opened her mouth to speak, words of retaliation forming on her lips. He didn't have to go it alone either! He knew as well as she did that he was disappearing and he didn't have to strain himself if he didn't want to! He wanted to live, he said that – he told her to watch him, didn't he? She wanted to _keep_ watching him, forever and ever, until the day they –

"What is this?" He turned to look at the papers he had spread out in his lap. Lifting them into his hands, he failed to get as good look at them before the Fonist swallowed her words and snatched the papers from his hands, a blush spreading like wildfire across her face.

"It's…none of your concern." She stammered, keeping her features hidden.

But she wasn't prepared for Luke to playfully snatch them back.

"What are these? They look like dots or something…" He turned the paper sideways, trying to make sense of the chaos ensuing on the paper, musically literate or not.

Tear slowly looked up at him, admiring silently how cute he looked when he was confused by something new. The blush darkened a few shades before she mustered the courage to explain.

"They're…they're notes. Like…for music." She said, taking the paper and holding it vertically so he could see. "The horizontal lines are called the staff, and that symbol is a clef – the things on the staff are called notes and when put together, they make a song." She pointed to the staff, clef, and notes respectively, Luke's face becoming more and more curious as she explained further.

"You know, Luke – our written language and our culture is based heavily off of music. Score and Maestro, for example, are terms used in music. It is believed that Yulia, before written and spoken language came to be, communicated with people through music."

"And you…can write music, Tear?" He asked, studying the piece of paper.

"I do it to help me think." She admitted, watching the floor while occasionally glancing up at her comrade. "I was taught from a very young age. It helps me understand things and stay focused."

The replica took on a pensive look, still comprehending what she had just said.

"Writing music helps me think straight when I'm going through a tough time. When I'm frustrated or scared or worried – I scrawl down notes and rhythms and somehow it makes me feel better and understand everything more." She flashed him a weak smile.

"Wow, Tear." He grinned at her. "I've never actually met anyone that could write music before. I knew you were talented, but…"

"Please…" she cut him off, "It's really not anything…"

"No, it is." Luke insisted, looking at the paper. "I mean, I've never even seen music put on paper before, and somehow I know that this song will be beautiful." He looked over, smiling genuinely.

"W-well…" Tear's face once again clouded itself with red at his comment. He thought her song was beautiful…? "Well, it's not finished yet, and there's still a bunch of things I need to change…"

He smiled, returning the sheet to her lap before standing up. "When it's done, I'd love to hear it." He said, placing his hands in his pockets.

Tear couldn't help but chuckle for a moment.

"Of course." She managed quietly, folding her hands in her lap.

A moment of silence ensued that only ended when the redhead yawned, looking around the room while extending his arms out on either side of him.

"It's late," he mused, placing a hand on his hip. "I'm exhausted – we both should at least try to sleep. A lot happened today, and we all need to keep our strength up."

Tear looked up at him. "Very true." She agreed.

"I'm heading off to bed." He turned his back to her, stepping toward the flight of stairs he had come down. "You coming up now?"

"In a minute…" she motioned to her papers. "I just have to clean up a few things."

Luke chuckled a bit, ruffling his red hair and grinning at her. "Okay. Well…good night, Tear."

Her name came so sweetly and softly from his lips – she wished she could hear it over and over.

She returned a smile, nodding in his direction. "Good night, Luke."

She watched the sheet music she'd written as he ascended back up the stairs without so much as a word.

Suddenly, the urge to finish this piece – for this to become the first piece she'd ever finish – was unbearable.

But Luke was right; it _was_ late and she _was_ tired, both mentally and physically. Tear gathered her papers together in a neat pile and stood, brushing off her uniform.

She leaned over the desk where the lamp rested, beginning to hum to herself the pitches she had written before.

The notes and chords sounded unfinished at most, but they were beginning to come together – who knows, she might really come to finish this one. And it pleased her to know that she might be able to.

She reached over and lifted the fountain pen into her hand, unable to keep herself from smiling as she scribed a minor, yet very major addition into the parchment. She then gathered her things, turned down the lamp, and began stepping up the stairs to her bedroom.

She would finish the song. And Luke would hear it, just like she said he would.

It was his song, after all.

For on the sheet there had been written three new words – small, but powerful all the same.

_For you, Luke._

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><p><strong>Nexus: So, how did you like it? Hm? Let me know in a review! <strong>

**Also, I have a question for everyone who reads this that they can say in their review. **

**If Tear's song in this fic could become any song from the Tales of the Abyss soundtrack, which one do you think it would be? **

**Let me know your thoughts and I'll give you what my idea was. :3 **

**Anyway, thanks for the read! **


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